Page 49 of Love At First Roar
He leaned in. “All of it.”
They didn’t kiss. They didn’t need to. The warmth between them buzzed like a thread pulled taut, humming with possibility. That declaration was more than enough.
But beneath it, a quiet question still rested in the back of her mind. Elric. The altar. The storm she knew was still gathering.
Callum must’ve sensed it. “You alright?”
She nodded. “I just—sometimes when everything’s this good, it’s hard not to wait for it to break.”
His jaw ticked. “We don’t break. We bend. That’s what Hollow Oak’s made for. And if I can start to realize that, then you can too.”
That settled something deep inside her.
As the stars pushed their way through the sky, as music and laughter bloomed louder, Cora let herself believe. Maybe this wasn’t a borrowed dream. Maybe this town—the people, the magic, the grumpy lion sitting beside her—wanted her to stay.
Because she knew in her heart, she didn’t want to run anymore. Not from this.
26
CALLUM
The laughter from Twyla’s glade had faded, but it still echoed in Callum’s chest.
He hadn’t known what to expect when he agreed to go to that dinner. Honestly, he’d planned to show up, grunt through a drink, and leave before the fiddles got warmed up. That was the safe choice.
But then he saw her.
Cora had been standing near the edge of the firelight, wrapped in a deep green dress that moved like forest wind. Her hair was half pulled back, loose strands curling around her face like vines reaching for light. She didn’t need to cast spells to shift the world around her, she just had to smile.
And he’d felt it, that shift, down to the marrow.
Hollow Oak had always been quiet with him. The trees bowed, but never breathed. The Veil bent, but never sang. But tonight, standing beside her with the town watching, he’d felt it all breathe in unison. Not just the land. Him. His chest, usually tight with grief and duty, had cracked open just enough to let something warm crawl in.
They’d walked away from the glade in comfortable silence. No patrol to chase. No danger to track. Just her beside him, close enough to touch, her shoulder brushing his with every few steps.
Moonmirror Lake peeked through the trees like it was waiting.
When they reached the shoreline, Cora kicked off her shoes and stepped onto the pebbled sand, sighing as the lake breeze caught the skirt and tousled her curls. The moon shimmered on the surface like spilled silver, and the whole clearing lit soft and pale like a memory.
Callum stayed back a few steps, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I come here when I need quiet.”
She turned, that half-smile playing at her lips. “I thought you lived in quiet.”
“Too much of anything turns into noise.”
She tilted her head, studying him like she could hear the words he didn’t say. “Then why bring me?”
He took a breath and pulled the folded parchment from his pocket. “Because I wanted to give you this.”
She blinked as he handed it to her, a slow curiosity sparking in her eyes. She opened it gently, like it might crumble if she moved too fast. Then she read.
She walks like the wind is waiting for her to hum.
The forest bows when she passes,
not in fear?—
in recognition.
